by Tasha Black
“But—” there was a note of despair in her tone that made him rejoice. Her body knew she needed him, whether her mind accepted it or not.
“Lie down, darling,” he crooned. “I’ll help you.”
She didn’t lie back, but he turned his attention to her thighs, trailing soft kisses up from her knees.
When he pressed her legs apart gently she spread them for him.
Again he felt the surge of violent happiness. She was his.
He placed one hand on each thigh, then leaned in to press his lips to her glistening sex.
Brooke let out a shuddering breath.
When he slid his tongue along her opening she let her head fall back.
Conan was drunk with lust. Brooke’s scent was all over his mouth. He lapped at her, licking and thrusting his tongue deeper and deeper, losing himself in her sighs and the trembling of her hips as she alternately thrust herself up to meet his tongue and tried to slide out of reach.
He slid his tongue up to explore her and found what he was looking for. Her clitoris throbbed and stiffened under his tongue. He wiggled it, lapped at it, sucked lightly and then stopped.
Brooke cried out, her hips quivering.
Conan smiled against her thigh and began again.
Brooke moaned and thrashed beneath him.
He slid a finger against her opening without penetrating as he teased her stiff little nub again.
Brooke moaned.
He sank his finger inside her warmth.
“Ah,” she sighed, her pussy squeezing his finger deliciously.
His cock pounded in furious jealousy against the mat beneath him.
He moved his finger inside her and she thrust her hips up, offering her sex to his inquisitive tongue.
He smiled and licked around his fingers.
Brooke bucked and made frantic sounds.
Satisfied that she was ready and he would be able to give her what she needed in spite of his lack of physical experience, Conan licked his way slowly upward once more.
Brooke seemed to hold her breath in anticipation.
At last he hooked his tongue around her clit and gave her what she wanted.
She gasped and then cried out ecstatically, squeezing his finger spasmodically as he followed her rhythm to extend and accentuate her pleasure for as long as he possibly could.
When the last tremors of her climax were done, he crawled up to lie beside her.
“Wow, Conan,” she whispered, sounding impressed.
“Thank you,” he told her.
“Don’t thank me yet,” she said. “Let me catch my breath and I’ll give you something to thank me for.”
“No, love, not tonight,” he told her firmly, even as her words sent him nearly over the edge with frustrated desire.
“But I want to,” she said.
“Let’s get you dressed again,” he murmured, fighting his greedy body.
“Did I do something wrong?” she whispered.
“Of course not,” he told her. “You were perfect.”
“Then why do I have to get dressed?”
He almost laughed at her pouting.
“Because your friend comes down here every night at about this time and asks if you want dinner,” he said.
“Oh,” she said. “I guess she does, doesn’t she?”
“Yes.”
She looked at him thoughtfully.
“Did you mean what you said?” she asked.
“What?” he asked her, knowing but wanting to hear her say it.
“Did you mean it when you said that you were choosing me for your mate?”
“I did,” he said. “But I also meant it when I said you didn’t have to make any decisions.”
“What did you mean when you said the die was cast?”
She had been paying attention.
“I’m only allowed to make one choice,” he told her carefully, hoping it wouldn’t scare her off.
“What happens if I don’t accept you?” she asked.
“Nothing happens,” he said. “You decide what you want, that’s all.”
“But you can’t choose someone else instead?”
He shook his head and locked his gaze with hers.
“It wouldn’t matter,” he said. “I don’t want someone else. I wouldn’t want someone else, whether I’d said those words to you or not. You’re the mate of my heart.”
The sound of footsteps echoed from the stairwell.
Brooke gasped and they pulled her clothing back together just before the door opened.
“Hey, guys,” Veronica said from the doorway. “What are you doing?”
“One last grapple on the old mats,” Brooke lied, standing up to greet her friend.
“Oh,” Veronica said, sounding unconvinced. “Cool. Well, we were going to go get cheesesteaks. You guys want to come?”
“Sure,” Conan called to her before Brooke could turn her down.
He knew it would be better to lighten the mood, go eat a normal dinner with Brooke and her friends. Hopefully their regular routine would be a steadying influence. He knew his declaration had shaken her. But she would accept him - he was certain - if he gave her enough time.
Brooke turned back to him and scowled as if to admonish him for ending their serious conversation.
He winked and grinned at her, then hopped to his feet and they followed Veronica up the stairs.
11
Conan
Conan sat beside Brooke at the little diner on Main Street. They were squeezed together cozily, with Brooke between him and Hawkeye.
Lobo sat across the table from Conan, with Veronica half in his lap and Trinity on the far end, facing Hawkeye.
Conan was so fixated on Brooke that he was having a hard time concentrating on his meal. He ate the sandwich without tasting it, relishing the feel of her thigh pressed to his, instead of the flavor of the shaved beef.
Brooke dispatched with her food lustily. Conan took pleasure in her appetite. Perhaps he was partially responsible for it.
His body warmed at the thought and he quickly took a sip of his soda to distract himself.
Hundreds of tiny gas bubbles danced in his chest, causing a funny ticklish sensation.
I used to be made of gas, too, he thought to himself wonderingly.
Though his previous existence on Aerie was beginning to feel less… real. He was now immersed completely in his Earth-bound life. And besides, whatever he had been then, it was not this Conan. He was changing.
Part of it was his new biology.
But much of it was social in nature.
He looked across the table to where Lobo brushed his lips against Veronica’s hair.
They were all changing.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Veronica said to Conan, rousing him from his reverie.
“I was just thinking how my brothers and I are evolving,” he said.
“What do you mean?” Veronica looked alarmed.
“I meant it philosophically,” he said immediately. “Our physical forms are permanent.”
“Oh,” she nodded.
Lobo clapped Veronica hard on the back. “Don’t worry,” he told her, laughing.
“I’m getting quite attached to your physical form,” she told her mate, lifting an eyebrow and causing him to laugh harder.
Veronica rolled her eyes at Brooke, as Lobo wrapped his arm around her and kissed the top of her head for the second time.
Conan tried not to envy their casual affection. It was easier now that he and Brooke had taken the first steps toward mating.
As if their thoughts were in tune, Brooke snuggled in closer to his side.
But Conan knew that she couldn’t accept him until she had settled the matter of the gym.
And for his part, he knew how it had to be settled. Brooke was a brilliant instructor and a magnificent fighter. He had seen first-hand how happy she was when training her students, and how fierce she was on the mat.
Brooke needed to train. And she needed
to fight in the contest.
And judging by her demeanor, he was beginning to think she might be feeling the same way.
He was pretty sure he knew what he needed to do. He just needed a little help to do it.
“I have to get back,” Trinity said suddenly.
“It’s only eight,” Brooke said.
“I know, I know,” Trinity said. “But my friend in Japan is playing IdleWatch when she gets home from class and that’s like two in the morning here.”
“You’re getting up in the middle of the night to play IdleWatch with a Japanese teenager?” Brooke asked.
“She’s awesome,” Trinity shrugged. “Is it okay for me to use the computer in your office tonight?”
“Well, I didn’t exactly have other plans for it at 2 AM,” Brooke teased. “Sure, help yourself.”
“Sweet,” Trinity said, sliding out of the booth. “I’ll see you guys later.”
“I will walk with you,” Hawkeye suggested.
Trinity got a look on her face that was both hopeful and anxious.
“No, no,” Veronica said immediately. “We’ll all go. Come on, Lobo.”
“You don’t have to,” Trinity said weakly, her expression now torn between relief and disappointment.
“It’s all good,” Veronica said. “I’ve got to be up early and I owe Zeus a visit tonight.”
Zeus was Veronica’s rescued dog. Conan felt that Veronica and Lobo had taken to treating the creature like it was a child, though it was as large as an antelbeast and nearly as ill tempered. But it managed to calm itself when the two of them were near, due to Lobo’s gift.
“Yeah, I’ve got to be up early too,” Brooke declared.
They all slid money across the table and headed out.
Outside, the sky was full, velvet darkness. The lights of the little town blotted out the stars.
Conan walked quietly beside Brooke, listening to Veronica and Lobo joke with Hawkeye.
When they reached home, he walked upstairs behind her, appreciating the way her posterior moved as she jogged up the steps.
She paused at the doorway to the women’s suite.
Trinity slipped past her toward her room.
Veronica and Lobo continued up the last flight of stairs to the rooms they now shared on the third floor.
Hawkeye turned and went into the men’s suite.
They were alone once more.
Brooke looked up at him, for once seeming uncertain.
“I had so much fun with you, Brooke,” he told her. “Thank you for letting me help with classes today.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, studying him quizzically.
“What is it?” he asked.
“You’re not trying to get invited in,” she observed.
“No,” he said. “I think you were generous enough with me today. I’ll see you tomorrow. If you want me to assist again?”
She nodded.
Then she surprised him by going up on her toes to kiss his cheek.
“Thank you, Conan,” she whispered. “See you in the morning.”
She was gone and the door closed behind her before he had a chance to register what had just happened.
He turned and entered the men’s suite slowly.
“Oh wow, hi,” Hawkeye said from his place on the sofa.
“What?”
“I don’t know,” Hawkeye said. “I guess I just thought you and Brooke might be heading upstairs tonight and I’d have the place to myself.”
“No,” Conan shook his head ruefully. “Not yet. How are things going with Trinity?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Hawkeye said, shaking his head. “You see how it is.”
“She’ll come around,” Conan said.
But inwardly he wasn’t so sure. Although they were all around the same age, Trinity seemed younger than the other two, and less outgoing. He hoped that her shyness wouldn’t be an insurmountable obstacle for Hawkeye.
“Are you going to bed, brother?” Hawkeye asked.
“Yes,” Conan said. “I’m going to get up early.”
“Okay, sleep well,” Hawkeye said.
Conan continued to his own room, and got into his bed dressed.
He pulled the local library’s copy of The Art of War from the shelf next to the bed and began to read.
He had a plan.
But he did not have an alarm clock that wouldn’t wake half the house, and he didn’t want to miss his chance.
Several hours later, in the still of night, he closed the book and slipped out of his room.
He made it to the hallway and closed the suite doorway behind him without making a sound.
Grabbing the banister, he tiptoed down the stairs.
When he reached the foyer he was disappointed to find the office dark and empty.
He was getting ready to sneak back up when he heard a sound coming from the kitchen.
He turned back to investigate.
Sure enough a light was on. Someone was reaching into the freezer, but the door was open, blocking her face.
“Hi, Trinity,” he said softly.
“Oh,” she gasped.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said.
“No worries,” she grinned back at him, looking a little embarrassed. “You want an ice cream?”
“Sure,” he said, reaching out to catch the paper wrapped treat that she tossed to him. “Say, do you have a minute? I don’t want to interrupt the game you were going to play, but I need your help with something.”
“You do?” she asked, looking surprised.
“Yeah,” he said.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I’ll explain it to you back in the office,” he told her. “Come on, I’ll help you carry your snacks in there.”
It was handy that Trinity played video games on the computer in Brooke’s office. And it was a pleasant coincidence that she had mentioned she was going to be playing tonight.
Conan knew, statistically speaking, people were bound to have things work out happily several times in a row from time to time.
But the last twenty hours were helping him understand why humans believed in luck.
12
Brooke
Brooke was happy. She and Conan were walking across the lawn of the new academy toward the K-9 kennels and home.
It had been a long day. One group of cadets had special training tomorrow, so she’d had to get in an extra class during her usual break time.
But with Conan by her side, the hours passed quickly. The students liked him. And he was turning out to have a natural gift for martial arts.
“That was fun,” he told her, echoing her own sentiments.
“Yeah,” she said. “Thanks so much for assisting.”
“It was my pleasure,” he said. “You’re a good teacher.”
“Thank you.” Brooke tried not to blush. She knew she was a good teacher. But somehow when Conan said it, it felt so nice.
“You’re also a great fighter,” he added.
“Thanks.” She grinned, knowing what was coming next.
“Have you thought any more about the tournament?”
Brooke stopped walking.
“Conan, I owe you an apology,” she said.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I overreacted,” she said. “You were trying to help me. You’re… always trying to help me.”
“I want you to be happy,” he said.
Brooke was struck by the sincerity of his tone and the open expression of kindness on his handsome face. That was something plenty of people said, but few actually meant - at least not without an ulterior motive. But she believed Conan when he said it. He really cared about her feelings.
“And I want you to win,” he added with a wink. “We have a good thing going here.”
“You really believe in me, don’t you?” she asked.
“Of course I do.” He said it like it was the most natural thing in
the world.
“Here’s the thing,” she said, moving toward home once more. “There’s not much time. We don’t have good equipment left for training.”
“You’re a resourceful person, Brooke,” Conan told her as they passed the K-9 enclosures and reached the old academy building. “I’m sure we can come up with something.”
He was walking faster now, his long legs hitting such a quick rhythm that she had to practically jog to keep up.
“Why are you in such a rush?” she asked.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m just glad to be home. Let’s head down to the gym, see what we can do with what you do have on hand.”
“I don’t know,” Brooke said. “Even if we figure out the equipment I don’t have any partners the right weight to train with. Even if I wanted to do this I couldn’t.”
But Conan was already heading down the stairs.
She followed him, enjoying his enthusiasm. It was the same excitement she’d felt herself when she started martial arts in middle school.
He opened the door to the gym and light filled the stairwell.
Odd. Brooke was sure she’d turned out the lights last night.
When she reached the open door she caught her breath in surprise.
The ring was back where it had always been.
And a group of her students had gathered in the space.
They looked up from their tasks, hanging heavy bags and putting together mats and she drank in their faces. These were her top students, the ones who loved the arts like she did. The ones she’d hoped would compete wearing the school colors one day.
As she stepped into the gym they all began to applaud.
“What- what is this?” she stammered.
Conan took her elbow and leaned down to whisper in her ear.
“I went to Trinity for help,” he told her. “She got the contact info for the people on your Advanced Sparring Class list.”
“Oh. Oh wow,” Brooke couldn’t even figure out where to start asking questions.
“She also says your email password should not be your birthday,” Conan added, giving her elbow an extra squeeze and then releasing her.
“Miss Singleton,” a female voice howled.
Brooke looked up just as one of her favorite high school aged students flung her arms around her, nearly lifting her off the ground.